


The Long Way Home

by ToodleOfDeeth



Category: History Boys (2006), History Boys - All Media Types, History Boys - Bennett
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, idk what to tag this, warning for talk of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToodleOfDeeth/pseuds/ToodleOfDeeth
Summary: “Not my fault Hector wanted a passenger. He ended up dragging Dakin off with him.”





	The Long Way Home

Despite the ever-growing feelings of doubt and pettiness within him, Akhtar climbed the front steps to the library, his bag hanging loosely on one shoulder. The large door creaked when it swung open, echoing around the high ceilings and disturbing the few that sat near by. He grimaced and apologised, then walked to the private study section at the back of the room.

Mrs. Harrison, the librarian, exchanged smiles with him, but he kept his direction firmly on the door and didn’t stop to chat.

“About time you arrived. You’re five minutes late,” Lockwood laughed, and Timms stopped messing about with the chalkboard to grin at him. Crowther smiled at him, and Rudge paused to look and wave, but stayed firmly by his book.

“Not my fault Hector wanted a passenger. He ended up dragging Dakin off with him.”

“I bet he appreciated that. Dakin, I mean.” Rudge said, slipping a pencil into his book as to not lose his place.

Akhtar laughed, “Based on the glare I suppose he did. He went yesterday, too.”

Timms threw a book in his general direction and laughed at the squawk he made when it hit him in the chest, “bit fucked up though, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Asked Crowther.

“The fact that Hector drags us off into the sunset against our will. Like, do any of us have a particularly difficult time getting home?”

No one said anything. Akhtar chucked his bag next to Lockwood’s and sat down between Rudge and Crowther. Timms kicked a leg out and accidentally hit his ankle.

“Sorry. But we all know we can get home easily, even you, Jimmy.”

“‘Easily’ is subjective. I don’t think you’d call two busses easy, considering you’re around the corner.”

“Fair enough,” Timms continued, “but why does he insist we get a lift? The arguments we have with him each day are getting longer.”

Rudge hummed, “truth be told, it’d be easier for all of us to make our own way home. Less faffing with the helmet and all that.”

“I could sure do without the lift home,” Crowther agreed, “he’s accidentally gone the long way home a few too many times at this point for it to be called convenient.”

Quietly, Lockwood said, “I don’t think he’s doing it for us.”

There was a pause before Rudge picked up the conversation again, “why else would he give us a lift? Surely it can’t benefit him.”

Akhtar spoke up with the confidence Lockwood lacked, “he’s doing it because he’s a bit of a sick bastard.”

“‘A bit,’” Timms mocked, “he’s a lot fucked up in my books. Shouldn’t be around kids, even if us lot are the only ones being fiddled.”

“Are we sure it’s only us?”

“No way to be. We only really talk to one another about this.”

There was a quiet, but only in the physical sense. Inside themselves was a panicked buzzing, thinking about what could be and what was.

“What if,” Crowther interrupted their thoughts; “he’s doing this to some poor year seven.”

“He only takes us on the bike,” Lockwood argued, “when else would he have the chance?”

“Those one on ones. Like he does with Posner.”

“This is kind of fucked, unit?”

“‘Kind of,’ might be a bit of an understatement, Pete. I dread to think of what he does to those kids.”

Another pause among them.

“So what can we do?” Lockwood interrupted the silence, “Talk to Felix?”

“The bloke chases Fiona around the desk on the daily, and she’s only a year older than us. What good will talking to him do?”

“We don't actually have any evidence of him touching the younger years, either.”

“Are we not evidence enough?”

“I don't know. Felix argues we’re adults. Shouldn't adults be able to handle this? What would adults do? I’m not sure I’m enough of an adult to know what to do.” Akhtar mused, though his face suggested distress rather than gentle contemplation.

“Adults would call the police.”

“Are we even adults, though? If we were adults we’d know what to do. I don’t feel like an adult.”

“Tell you what,” Timms began, “we may not be adults, and we may not be able to act like them, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything.”

“What’s your scheme this time?” Crowther asked.

“Keep track of who goes on the bike. Starting next week, we’ll keep track of who goes on, and we’ll ask them if he did anything.”

“Then what?” Rudge said, “it’s not as if Felix is guaranteed to believe us.”

Timms pointed at him, “Felix might not. But Mrs Lintott may.”

“Totty is Hector’s friend. Can we be sure she’ll listen?”

“She ratted on Agnes when we were in year eight, despite them being close. I don’t see why she’d put Hector above the whole school like that.”

“What a joke this all is. Do you think he doesn’t know it’s wrong?”

“If he didn't know he would do it in the hallway,” Crowther said, bitterly, “he’s shabby. His actions shouldn't be excused, in my mind.”

Timms stepped in again, drawing their attention away from the approaching argument, “Give it a week to collect evidence and get out heads together about how to tell Felix or Totty, and time to tell the others, and then we’ll talk about it to them. Stronger in numbers, as they always say.”

They made some faint noises of agreement, and Timms started anew, “Whose turn is it tomorrow?”

“Got rugby.”

“Computing.”

“Going to that art thing, you know?”

“And I’m not going his way. Crowther?”

Crowther sighed, “I guess it’s me, huh? I suppose you expect a detailed report?”

“Of course.”

“For sure.”

“Yeah.”

And Rudge just hummed.

“Right,” Crowther began to rummage around in his bag again, “I best be off now. I suppose all I can really hope for is that he goes the short way, not the long way past the charity shop again.”

“Oh you know he will.”

“I know… I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the fourth day of The October History Boys writing thing! It doesnt really have a name, but each Sunday in October there will (hopefully) be a new fan fiction.
> 
> Please leave kudos, bookmarks and comments!


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